


put out my senses

by Nestra



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 12 Days of Malex 2019, Cabin Sex, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Gay Character, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2019, Michael Guerin's secret pibble heart, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestra/pseuds/Nestra
Summary: It could have been a dream. Maybe it was. It had that unreal feeling, as if he might take a breath and suddenly find himself in a different and completely expected place.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 33
Kudos: 136
Collections: 12 Days Of Malex 2019





	put out my senses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/gifts).



> For the prompt "Something super intimate/sexy during a snowstorm or blackout with Michael worshiping the hell out of Alex." I hope you enjoy this, elliebird.
> 
> Title from the poem "I Am Not Yours" by Sara Teasdale: https://poets.org/poem/i-am-not-yours
> 
> Thanks to grit kitty, celli, and shrift for beta.

Michael woke up as soon as the power went out. 

Even in July, it got pretty cool at night, but the cabin picked up plenty of heat during the day, so Alex usually slept with a fan blowing across the bed. The disappearance of that white noise drone was almost a noise itself. Other absences slowly made themselves known—the hum of the refrigerator, the digital clock on the microwave, the charging lights on their phones and Alex's computers—all gone, leaving behind a heavy, almost oppressive blanket of silence.

Sleepily, he made a mental note to get Alex a generator.

A mumble came from the other side of the bed. "What happened?"

"Power's out."

"Why?"

"Good question." Couldn't blame it on wind—there was no sound of it outside, no summer storm. Just a quiet, pitch-black night. He held up a hand in front of his face, but with no moon outside, he could discern only the faintest outline. It was disorienting—no sight, no sounds except what the two of them made.

Alex turned over to face him, still sounding groggy. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He'd always been a light sleeper, by necessity rather than habit. So had Alex, but the blackout must have caught him at the deepest part of a REM cycle. He could envision it—Alex's face unguarded, eyes half open, mouth relaxed. Reaching out, guessing based on the sound of Alex's voice, his hand landed on Alex's shoulder. He traced along it, up his neck to his jawline, then his lips. Almost instinctively, it seemed, they parted under his touch, letting Michael run two fingers along the wet inside of his bottom lip.

When Alex sighed gently, his breath brushed against the back of Michael's hand. In the darkness, he felt not just the air passing along his skin, but also the heat and moisture in it. The inside of Alex's lip was liquid silk, and when he pushed further in, the minuscule bumps along Alex's tongue tickled at his fingers.

He withdrew his hand. Alex leaned toward him; he knew because the sheets rasped and rubbed together with the movement. He could sense him moving closer, his presence filling the air between them.

"Michael," Alex whispered, loud as a thunderclap.

They had to move slowly, carefully, using their hands to guide them. Alex nosed at his cheek first, then adjusted to press his mouth against Michael's in a soft kiss. His entire world collapsed to the feel of Alex pressed against him, the sound of Alex exhaling, the sweet noise of their lips meeting and separating.

They kissed and kissed, and he had no sense of time passing. It could have been one minute or ten. He had always loved kissing Alex so much, since that first moment in the museum, when he realized he didn't have to find words to explain himself. They'd communicated best through touch, using it to tell truths they couldn't admit or were too painful to speak aloud.

Alex gripped his shoulder and leaned back, pulling Michael with him. More often, he draped himself over Michael, at least to begin with. Michael had never asked why, but he figured that Alex liked the sense of control it gave him, and Michael had no problem letting Alex press him down and hold him against the mattress or wall or floor.

But maybe it was the darkness, or that he'd awoken from a deep sleep, or maybe he just wanted Michael to take the lead. He lay back and spread his legs, making a place for Michael to slide gently over. Without the fan, the air in the room started to feel close, and the thin cotton sheet rubbed against itself and Alex's skin as Michael tugged it down.

It could have been a dream. Maybe it was. It had that unreal feeling, as if he might take a breath and suddenly find himself in a different and completely expected place.

When he settled his weight, the slight push of air out of Alex's lungs became a hum as he gave it voice. Michael pressed his hand against Alex's chest, both to cause that sound again and to feel the vibration under his palm. It wasn't enough to satisfy his growing need, and he worked his hand under Alex's t-shirt to reach skin. He rubbed circles with the heel of his hand to feel the scratch of chest hair, and Alex squirmed a little and let out a breathy laugh.

He tugged on Alex's shirt, and Alex curled up to let Michael fumble for it between his shoulders and peel it off. He could picture the way it left Alex's hair rumpled, sticking out in every direction. It reminded him of how Alex had looked in high school, when he'd used his appearance as armor against the world. Now respectability was his shield, and Michael was one of the few people who knew what really lay underneath.

Alex stroked up and down his back, occasionally letting his short nails graze along the line of his spine. He opened his mouth into another kiss, his tongue lush and wet, dragging so slowly against Michael's. Every movement was leisurely, as if the night could last forever, until he turned the kiss dirty. He forced Michael's mouth open wider, and the teasing press of his tongue became more insistent as he licked inside. Heat flooded through Michael and started to prickle under his skin as he let Alex turn his head and adjust the angle.

The lazy, dreamy feeling burned away as urgency took hold. Suddenly the kissing wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough when he felt like this.

He shifted his body downward, flicked his tongue against Alex's nipple, hard and precise, then bit at it until Alex writhed under him. When he moved to do the same to his other nipple, his mouth collided with Alex's fingers, already pinching it. He tangled his tongue with those fingers, licking the bumps of the knuckles, up to the flexing tendons.

Alex's other hand slid into his hair, and he hated how predictable he was, that Alex knew he didn't even need to pull on it—just working his way into Michael's hair and stroking his scalp made Michael's eyes flutter shut and his mouth go slack. Those gentle touches almost convinced him to slow down and spend hours teasing both of them, but they couldn't outweigh his need to overfill his senses, glut himself on the taste of Alex's sweat, the feel of his skin.

Like the soft, thin skin on the inside of his elbow. He turned his head and kissed it, dislodging Alex's hand from his hair, then rubbed it with his chin, scratching his stubble along it just to feel Alex twitch.

"Hey," Alex murmured, not really a protest.

"Mmm?" Since it was dark, Michael didn't have to bother putting on an innocent expression. He focused on stroking down Alex's chest until he reached the waistband of his boxers. Alex usually wore a shirt and boxers to bed; if he needed to get up, having to grab either his prosthesis or his crutches was limiting enough. More often than not, Michael slept naked, especially when sharing a bed with Alex. He liked having as few layers as possible between them so that Alex's hand rested on the bare skin of his hip when he curled up behind Michael.

Alex planted his left foot and lifted his hips, and Michael pulled his boxers down and off, tossing them to the floor. He dug into Alex's thighs and felt firm muscle under his hand, tensing and relaxing as Alex spread out his left leg and draped his right leg over Michael's shoulder.

Michael nuzzled into the juncture of Alex's legs, letting his nose and the brush of coarse hair against his face guide the way. Alex was half-hard, and Michael licked at the head of his cock briefly, then opened his mouth, taking it all in, weighing it on his tongue as it filled.

The slightest sound Alex made, each indrawn breath or subvocal whine, sounded shockingly loud in the dark and silent room. He'd normally look up at Alex a few times while blowing him, or see his hands clenching the sheets out of the corner of his eye. But in the pitch-black, he had to rely on those sounds and the way Alex moved underneath him.

It had never changed. All those years, all of the pain and misunderstandings, the other relationships they'd both had—they could so easily have turned Alex cold and defensive. He had every excuse in the world to hide away and protect himself. But he still came alive when Michael touched him. 

Michael stretched out a hand and opened the drawer of the bedside table with his telekinesis, then pulled the lube to his hand. Alex was so hot around his finger, and so hard in his mouth, and Michael just wanted to stay like this forever, drowning himself in Alex. He dragged his mouth up Alex's cock and sucked on the head, rubbing at it with the flat of his tongue until Alex cried out and the sound echoed off the walls of the cabin and rang in his ears.

Michael pulled off and wrapped his hand around it instead, slowly jerking him. "You wanna come like this? My mouth and my fingers?"

Alex didn't answer, just rolled his hips, fucking himself down on Michael's finger and then up into his hand. Michael figured that meant _yes_ , so he squeezed more lube onto his fingers and pushed a second one into Alex. He got a nice rhythm going, steady and deep, and sunk his mouth back down Alex's cock until his lips met his hand.

Alex's hand scrabbled at his shoulder. "Wait, wait."

Michael let Alex's cock slip out. "What?" He began slowly withdrawing his fingers, but Alex gripped his shoulder.

"No, don't stop," he said, halfway between laughing and gasping. "Fuck me."

"Oh." Michael pressed a kiss right under the head of his cock, then licked it. "Why didn't you say so?"

The start of another word floated down from the head of the bed, but it cut off in a curse when Michael spread his fingers open a bit and stroked back inside him. He kept at it until Alex started pleading.

"Come on, Michael, come on, now, please, please..."

"You sure?" he asked, because he knew his strengths, and being a pain in the ass was definitely one of them.

"You son of a bitch—" Alex sat upright with a little grunt of effort, got a hand into Michael's hair again, and pulled him up. _Hard_. Michael gasped at the sensation, simultaneous pain and pleasure.

"Okay, okay." He rearranged them on the bed; Alex's leg slid off his shoulder and Michael's fingers slipped out of him. Sitting back on his knees, he slicked up his cock with the lube still on his hand, shuddering a little at how good it felt already. He stopped and focused on box of condoms in the drawer—thank god for his telekinesis, which worked even when he couldn't see what he was grabbing.

Putting on a condom in the dark took him a little more time, but before long he had his cock in one hand, using the other to tease a little and guide himself into Alex's body. They both groaned as he sank in, pulled back out, sank in again. He always loved doing this, getting as close to becoming a part of Alex as he could, cradled between his legs, but in the dark, in the quiet, in the solitude, it felt like he was surrounded, like Alex was everywhere. Everything he touched was Alex, everything he heard, everything he tasted and smelled.

He put a hand behind Alex's right knee to help support the weight of his damaged leg, and with his other hand, reached for his cock. Again, Alex's hand was already there, so Michael lightly encircled his fingers, felt them as Alex stroked himself with quick, urgent motions.

He had to kiss Alex. It meant leaning down and trapping their hands between their bodies, pushing Alex's leg high up on his shoulder, and it was awkward for both of them, but Michael had to find and taste his mouth again before he pushed back up and started fucking him harder.

"Michael," Alex cried out, hand on his cock moving even faster.

Michael let go of Alex's cock to grab his other leg, pushing on it, rolling Alex's hips back just a little, just enough to adjust the angle and set off his orgasm. He could feel it, passing through Alex to him, waves of pleasure coming from where Alex's hand was still frantically moving, flowing through where they were joined.

"Oh, fuck, Alex."

Alex's clean hand came up to cradle his face. "That's it, baby, come on."

He could hear Alex panting, but it disappeared under the sound of skin hitting skin, the impact of his body against Alex's, so solid and substantial. He darted out his tongue to lick Alex's palm, taste the slight hint of salt there, and then sucked two fingers into his mouth when Alex pressed them against his lips.

Everything disappeared when Michael came, blotted out by the punch of sensation that left him weak and shaky. He kept waiting for it to fade, but it lingered, spreading through his body until he felt like he breathed out pleasure with every beat of his heart.

He finally had to move when he started to soften inside Alex. He dealt with the condom and collapsed on his side, except he miscalculated in the dark and thudded down onto Alex's chest instead of the mattress.

"Ow!" Alex half-heartedly shoved at him. "Get off of me, you weigh a ton."

"That's not what you were saying a minute ago." Innuendo wasn't as fun when you couldn't make suggestive faces, he decided.

"I just washed these sheets," Alex said. Judging by the sound of it, he'd wiped his hand clean on the side of the bed.

"Is that a complaint?"

"No. Not at all." Alex rolled over and after a few false starts, found his cheek to kiss.

As they lay there, exchanging soft kisses, the power returned. Cool air swirled as the fan clicked back on, drying the sweat at Michael's temples and the small of his back. The room, so dark moments before, seemed lit up by the glow from the plugged-in electronics. He could make out Alex's silhouette, the pale oval of his face topped by his hair, spiky and disheveled, just like he'd expected.

He tugged the sheet up to cover them and dragged his pillow into the curve of Alex's arm, pressing up against him. Alex's hand came up to stroke his shoulder, and he didn't need to see Alex's face to know he was smiling.


End file.
